From Flying First Class to Buying Marked-Down Meat: My Mental Health Story
On over-performing, losing touch, and learning how to come back to myself
Believe it or not, in one year, I went from making $500k+, flying first class, & working as an ALDI spokesperson… to standing in ALDI, unemployed, mentally broken, picking through marked-down meat to see what was still good.
This is what misalignment cost me. And this is my mental health story.
I remember standing in the aisle longer than I needed to. Holding one of the packages in my hand, flipping it over, checking the date & thinking, “if I freeze this tonight, I should be fine.” Not “do I want this,” or “what sounds good,” just… what actually makes sense to spend right now.
And it wasn’t my life a year ago.
I recently came across a guest ledger from Nobu: $1,561.08. It was tucked inside of a retired briefcase, one I haven’t touched in months. Seeing it took me back.
At different points throughout the year, I’d get “activated” by ALDI—onboarded, prepped, downloaded on whatever seasonal or holiday push we were in: savings campaigns, product drops, the like.
From there, it was a run of daytime talk shows, radio hits, quick segments stacked back-to-back, what they call an SMT, a satellite media tour. On this occasion, I was in Chicago. Two nights. In & out.
Moving fast. Saying my lines. Hitting my marks. Doing the damn thing.
And here’s the part that stopped me…that whopping $1,561.08 was just on dining. Food, taxes, fees. No room. No extras. Just meals.
I spent over $1,500 on food in 48 hours & didn’t think twice about it.
That’s how out of touch I was.
For this particular stretch of time, I wrapped up the satellite media tour for ALDI—early call times, back-to-back segments, same talking points, different hosts. Smile. Reset. Do it again. I returned home & immediately set up for a couple of segments shot in my in-apartment studio; nothing fancy, just my second bedroom transformed into an aesthetic kitchen. It wasn’t functional.
Once I sent b-roll to the studios I interviewed with, I went straight into filming for Impossible Foods.
Lights up, camera on a tripod & I’m halfway through cooking. I stop mid-take because something feels off. I can’t even tell what it is, I just know it’s not right.
So I start over.
Again.
And again.
And again.
At some point, I’m standing there, food getting cold, staring at myself on the screen thinking, why does this feel so hard right now?
My phone is buzzing on the counter, intermittently. Emails are coming in. Another brand asking for a quick turnaround. A follow-up I should’ve responded to hours ago.
I keep glancing at it, calculating in my head… what needs to get done tonight, what can wait, what I’m already behind on.
I finish filming, but I don’t feel good about it. So I tell myself I’ll fix it later.
I said that a lot back then.
But I waited until it was too late. I was falling apart.
The external validation, material gains, brands fawning over me, my constant output & performance were no longer enough to suppress what was wrong all along.
I never felt like I was enough unless I was overachieving, over-performing, over-committing, over-extending.
I created a life where I was over-existing: saying yes when I should’ve said no, showing
up when I had nothing left to give.
I was in a constant performance.
And the moment the curtain closed, I had to sit with everything I was avoiding.
So I stepped away with no real plan or clean transition. It wasn’t strategic. Just a very honest realization: I can’t keep doing this, like this, anymore.
I’ll have to fast forward here.
But that decision led to a year of weekly therapy, committing to daily reflection & gratitude journaling, sitting with things I used to run from.
Accepting that healing isn’t a breakthrough moment; it’s a daily, non-linear process. Slowly, something started to shift.
And somehow that led me back to ALDI, standing there doing math over discounted meat.
Which sounds small, but in that moment, it felt like everything had changed.
I felt like Icarus, in a way.
I flew high. Higher than I ever imagined. But I was out of touch with myself the entire time. And when it all came down, it wasn’t just a fall.
It was a return.
This past year hasn’t been about getting back to where I was.
It’s been about understanding why I needed to be there in the first place. Ya know, who I was performing for, & what it actually means for me to feel okay.
The work I’m doing now reflects that shift. It’s slower, more intentional, & rooted in raw honesty. I’m less interested in output for the sake of staying visible, & more focused on creating space—for myself & for others—to pause, reflect, & sit with what’s actually going on beneath the surface.
It’s not about performance anymore. It’s about meaning.
Tomorrow kicks off Mental Health Awareness Month.
I’m not sharing this as someone who has it all figured out, I certainly DO NOT. I’m sharing it as someone who lived it, sat with it, & is still in the process of working through it.
If any part of this feels familiar, you’re not alone in it.
— Kasim